A match is lit
Then touched to the tip of a cigar
He inhales the acrid smoke
And would know my allegiance

For Queen and Country
Loyalty to the crown
Perhaps a deeply rooted belief
Perhaps only a habit now

Smoke drifts away in silence
Dust whirls around his feet
Hands me a manila folder
They wanted me to have this

The natives look but they do not see
The foreigners see but they do not look
It is a long, twisting path
I am watched, but not followed

An agent of the Tsar
Hard eyes from years on assignment
Unblinking behind her long lashes
The colour of knifemetal

It is her Game now
But today she will be playing by my rules
A lazy sun sets in the west
The shadows run like ink

Silent tread through dust and sand
A turn of the head
No, I am no-one of consequence
Just a traveller on his way to the East

She suspects nothing
Picks up a carpet bag lying in the plaza
Unfastens the latch
Stifles a shriek

The clock slices off another hour
Twitch of a newspaper
Smoke rises to the open sky
My contact awaits my answer

He smiles, satisfied but cold
A carefully discarded envelope
He snubs out his cigar
No one can know